While You're Gone
by ImaginedInsanity
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione, Ron, Harry and Ginny go to Australia to break the memory charm on Hermione's parents. But when they can't be found Hermione becomes a shell, and Harry is riddled with guilt. My first fanfic! PLEASE REVIEW! H/G, R/HR
1. Chapter 1

Hermione sat engrossed in _1001 Essential Spells for the Newt Student _and didn't even glance up when Ron walked in. He strolled over and took a seat next to her by the fireplace and just watched her. She read quite quickly, her eyes scanning the page so fast her eyes looked almost blurry. Ron looked at her hair with the light from the fireplace playing with her frizz. Her neck must have been sore because she kept rubbing it. Ron watched her brow furrow as she groaned and massaged her neck. Without conscious thought, Ron's hand was there.

"RON!" Hermione jumped. "Are you TRYING to scare me to death? How long have you been there anyhow?" She looked cross. Ron loved it when she looked cross. Her eyes got all fierce and her lips would part a little. Ron swallowed.

She had been like this since after the battle. Not being able to find her parents when the four of them had gone to Australia had been terrible. She hadn't been able to sleep or eat for the two months they travelled around, fruitlessly searching for any trace of her parents, before Harry finally made her face the fact that they probably wouldn't find them. There was no trace and Australia was a big country. Perhaps the Death Eaters had been there first, he had said. The screaming match that followed was one that Ron had never expected to see. He had rarely seen Hermione blow up at Harry, but she lost her head completely and screamed bloody murder at him.

"You just want everyone to be as miserable as you, Harry Potter! You want to feel like everyone has things that are their fault, instead of thinking you're the martyr! At least I never acted like a martyr about what I did, Harry! I had to make my parents FORGET me!! All so I could help you prance around like a prat, trying to save the world! But you never once heard me whine about how horribly unfair my life was!" Ron tried to interrupt her to tell her she was being unfair and she had tried to hex him. He jumped out of the way by mere centimetres and left them to it. Harry looked so woebegone by now that Ron felt for him, he had been on the receiving end of Hermione's screams, and it wasn't fun. Harry just sat down on the bed opposite Hermione and said softly, "Hermione, you're so much smarter than this. I know you put tracing spells on your parents. Why can't we find them?"

"I must have done the spell wrong!"

"Hermione," Harry whispered, "You never do the spell wrong. Not once in the seven years I have known you have i seen you do a spell wrong. You know that something is wrong, Hermione. We could spend years looking, and never find them, sweetheart." Ron bristled a bit at the term of endearment, but saw Ginny come over and sit with Harry and noticed that he was crying.

A bit embarrassed for Harry (and REALLY not wanting to see Ginny's idea of comforting him) he turned back to Hermione, shuffling his foot. She was staring at Harry with her eyes about to brim over with tears. Ron panicked. He could handle her when she was angry, but her tears were his poison. He saw one roll down her cheek, and his heart broke a little. He was there, he was holding her, he was rocking her, and he was making the noises he hoped she needed to calm her down, but the tears never stopped. They were an onslaught that he was defenceless against. He just held her tight; as if afraid she would float away on a sea of tears. Harry and Ginny left after the first hour. Harry begging Ron's permission with his eyes, and Ginny's warning Ron what would happen if she didn't get Harry out of there now. Ron knew Harry was probably blaming himself, and if anyone could kick some sense into him, it was his outlandish sister.

That had been a hard night, Ron remembered Hermione sobbing into his lap for hours. When Harry and Ginny returned, the four of them just sat in that dingy little hotel in Sydney and didn't talk for days. After the first twenty-four hours Hermione just lay there. No more crying, she just lay there numbly and stared out the window to the view of the next dingy grey building. Her eyes were the only features that gave away that she wasn't just relaxing peacefully. They had darkened in some sort of anguish, and they were constantly glistening, though without real tears. It was her permanent expression now.

The next blow came when they got home and Harry told them he wasn't going to go back to school and finish his NEWT year. He had been offered a position with the Ministry at the Auror office. He was Harry Potter, The Boy who Lived and Lived Again, and he had the position handed to him on a platter. There was really no need for him to go back to Hogwarts, and Harry didn't think he would be able to handle going back to the scene of so much death. Hogwarts didn't feel like home for Harry anymore. Now it felt like returning to the guilt he had carried around with him since the battle. And Harry couldn't cope. Ginny's face when Harry told her he wouldn't be coming back to Hogwarts was almost as devastated as Hermione's. She pulled herself together though, and Harry was soon the proud owner of several million tiny bats that considered his nostrils home. Ginny wouldn't talk to Harry for a whole day, and it wasn't until the effects of the spell wore off that he was able to even talk. She had finally taken his yells through her bedroom door seriously when he had camped there. At 3 in the morning she decided he had had his punishment, and now she had to talk him around.

*****

"Harry, I just got you back," Ginny said furiously, "And we can finally be together without you being all noble and trying to save everyone. So give me one good reason I should let you do this to me now."

Harry had sat there looking at his socks.

Ginny just shook her head. "Harry if you can't talk to me about decisions like this then maybe you're not ready for there to be an 'us'. Are you looking for an out? Because you've got one here. I'm giving you a chance to say 'Look Ginny, I don't want this'."

And Harry was suddenly kissing her. His hands were in her hair and she was pushed up against her bedroom door. "How....could...you...think....that!"He growled at her in between kisses. Ginny kissed him back furiously. It was a battle now. Who loved the other one more? Eventually neither of them could breathe and in the stalemate they just broke apart to breathe in the other one, foreheads pressed together.

Ginny realised her legs were wrapped around Harry's waist, and she didn't even recall how they got there. She jumped down quickly and walked away from him.

"No, Harry," she said firmly. "You don't just get to kiss me and think that everything is better. I need to understand what you're thinking right now. Because I don't understand how you can kiss me like that, but want to leave me again."

Harry dropped his head. He walked over to her bed and sat down. "Gin," he began slowly, "I can't go back there" he whispered.

Ginny's heart melted. He looked so lost sitting there on her bed, in his pyjamas, looking for the entire world like a little boy. "Harry Potter," Ginny said sharply, and he looked at her. "You will stop feeling sorry for yourself this instant do you hear me?" Harry nodded morosely. "I'll hex you!" Ginny warned him. "The issue here is that you can't cope with going back to Hogwarts? Is that the only reason?"

"No."

Ginny came and sat beside him on the bed.

"I need to give Teddy a life. I know he lives with Andromeda, but there will be a time when she won't be able to give him the life he deserves. I need to be able to provide for him." He paused, looking at Ginny, "I don't know what Lupin was thinking when he made me godfather! I don't know the first thing about children! And all I can think about is how I might be as much of a disappointment to Teddy as the Dursley's were to me. So as much as I can't cope with going back to Hogwarts, it's not just that fear. I also know I can't be a kid anymore, Gin. I'm not one, and going back there is just going to make me feel so horrible. I need to see what good I can do, I need to be ready to raise Teddy at any time, and I need to be ready to give you the life I want you to have. If I go back to Hogwarts now, then I will be some freak show again, just more so. And I am not prepared to do that to me or to you. I am going to be adult about this, Gin," Harry said looking in her eyes.

Ginny looked at him.

She was in love with the most amazing person. He was actually not thinking about himself and moping. Instead he was still worrying about everyone else in the equation that was their lives. Because it was their lives now. Ginny knew that they were never going to be apart after this year. She would have tried to say that she wouldn't return to Hogwarts either if she thought it would do any good. If Harry got word that she was planning on not finishing, he would go back just to make her. And she wouldn't have him putting himself through the wringer for her.

Ginny just looked at him. "Okay, Harry."

Then she lay down on the bed and let out a sigh.

"What's wrong?" Harry said and his hand was in her hair again.

"Well for starters, I hadn't planned on this," Ginny said, "I mean we've really got to get a move on if we have a whole years worth of each other to fit into a couple of weeks!" And with that Harry finally smiled. That devastating smile that had gotten them into trouble in the first place.

"Oh really?" He grinned, "And what did you have in mind Miss Weasley?"

"Well for a start, I think we need to work on our...intimacy" Ginny cheeked, "I mean long distance relationships can be very difficult, it just makes everything that much... harder" she winked and Harry grabbed her and his lips found her neck. Ginny loved it when Harry became this man. The one who would play with her and love her, but she was always glad of the other side to him. The one who was always concerned and worrying about her. Without that, Harry would not be as amazing. She held his head in place as his lips began to wander. He tilted his head so he eyes were watching her. He had his wand in his hand and Ginny didn't even have time to think. Suddenly he Vanished her pyjama top and she let out a shriek.

"Harry!" Ginny scolded and tried to cover herself up. "What's wrong?" Harry murmured, as his hands grabbed hers and held them above her head... and his lips found their target. Ginny moaned.

"I'm going to miss you," she sighed.

So Harry accepted the Auror offer and saw Ginny, Ron and Hermione onto the Hogwarts Express on September first. Ginny wasn't thrilled, but she would be in the same year as Ron and Hermione, and they could all cope with it together. She looked back at the platform as the train pulled away, watching Harry with purple-haired Teddy and her mother. Harry held Teddy's hand up in a little wave.

His face was heartbreaking.

*****

"'Mione, I've been here for about half an hour. I think you're studying too much. You need to take a bit of a break. Maybe relax for a bit and then go back over it in a while." Ron was pleading. He knew she would say no and give him that blank-eyed stare and go back to her book. It was bad enough for him to have to walk past the place where Fred had died every evening on his way to the common-room, but now he had lost both his best friends. Harry was sending owls less and less as he spent more and more time undercover now (even though Ron knew Ginny still got owls every second day), and Hermione was a shell of her old self. Ron doubted she even knew he existed half the time. He longed for the days when she would berate him over not doing his homework or drag him off to the library for some 'light reading'.

"Ron, I have to finish this chapter."

Hermione was already 7 chapters ahead of the rest of the year (which was significantly large this year due to the large number of students returning to finish their NEWTS as well as the continuing students). Her eyes glazed back over and she went back to learning the disciplines of Disillusionment charms. Ron left his hand where it was. It was all he could do not to grab her and shake her till she became mad again. It was the only time he ever saw an inkling of the girl he loved. This shell wasn't Hermione. But he knew she had to still be in there somewhere. He ran his hand absent-mindedly through her hair. He didn't even know if they were 'together'. They had shared several kisses and heated sessions during the weeks following the battle, both exuberant with the combined relief and grief and releasing years of stored up feelings. Ron smiled a little as he remembered those few weeks before they had gone to track down Hermione's parents. Then he grimaced at the memory. They hadn't had anything remotely like that since. Hermione had become a shell, and Ron held no interest to her. She didn't even raise her hand in class anymore. She knew the answers. Of course she knew the answers. THAT part of Hermione Granger was still the same. But nothing else was. She had lost all her passion and vibrant enthusiasm that Ron now realised he had been taking for granted. It was always a given, a standard by which he could measure everything, that Hermione would always be a know-it-all. And she was. But no longer the presence that made it annoying or even endearing. Now Ron just looked at her and felt sad; missing her more than anything, needing her to be his rock.

Hermione dropped her quill and Ron ducked to pick it up quickly. Unfortunately Hermione did so at the same time and they bumped heads – hard. Ron fell to the floor in front of the fireplace and clutched the back of his head. He was a little jumpy since the battle too come to think of it. A look of horror came over Hermione's face.

"RON?!" She shrieked, "Ron, I'm so sorry!" Before he knew what was happening she was on the floor next to him. She was stroking his face. She had her hands in his hair.

"Are you okay Ron? I'm so sorry! Are you hurt?" her hands were frantic, clutching at him everywhere trying to check that he was alright.

Ron merely looked at her. He grabbed her hands and stopped them from moving. "Hermione, I'm fine, I just jumped out of my skin. You just scared me that's all."

Hermione sat there. Her eyes blank. Then, suddenly she was pummelling every inch of him she could reach, "YOU... COMPLETE... ARSE!!"

Ron didn't even think. He had no conscious thought of ever making the decision. But suddenly Hermione's hands were tightly grasped in his own once more and he had pulled her face down low enough to kiss her. His lips touched hers and Hermione froze. But only for a millisecond, because the next thing Ron knew her hands were running through his hair and she was kissing him back...furiously. He was amazed. His hands pulled her closer to him and they were in a world all their own.

THIS was the Hermione he remembered. The Hermione who screamed at him with her eyes like fire and her lips like.... Hermione moaned and Ron suddenly realised that his hand was on her breast. She stiffened a little then, as if steeling herself, moved her hand to her top button and murmured his name. Ron started to feel guilty. Hermione wasn't right lately. Was this taking advantage of her? Or was it them coming back together and a new start for Hermione? Did she just need him tonight? Or was this the wrong thing to be doing? Ron felt Hermione place his hand over her heart... and slide it inside her shirt... and all conscious thought flew out the window.

Ron didn't even know what was happening, suddenly Hermione had his pants off, and her skirt was pulled up, and the heat from the fire was making him dizzy. He kissed her, and she kissed him, and everything was alright. For the first time in months Ron felt happy, and at home. He had worried that being with Hermione might ruin anything they had left of a friendship. But now he felt like this was how they were supposed to be. Why didn't they do this all the time? He felt Hermione's heart race as they moved and her eyes were bright with happiness. Was it the fire? Some illusion of the light flickering? Ron didn't think so. Hermione cried out with a little noise and Ron felt her all around him and groaned into her hair. She lay there panting on top of him, and Ron's hands were tracing love hearts on her back. Her fingers were playing with his shirt. And he could smell the ash from the fire. Smoky and strong in her hair.

"I love you, Hermione," Ron whispered.

She sat up.

And she looked at him like she had never seen him before.

"Ron, I really need to finish this chapter!"

Within two seconds she was gone, and her skirt was back where it belonged, and her shirt was buttoned, and her quill was back in her hand, and her eyes were blank once more. Ron just stared. He watched her and she seemed for all the world as if nothing had ever happened between them. As if the world hadn't stopped for those moments. As if Ron hadn't been closer to her than anyone ever had been. As if Ron and her entwined by the fireplace was a dream. Ron almost wished it was.

He got up.

"Goodnight Hermione," he said, kissing her on the top of her head. He lingered a little long to breathe in the smoky smell from her hair, just to reassure himself it had actually happened.

Then he went to bed.

Hermione sat there. Staring at her book, unfocused, unseeing. Her eyes hadn't flown to the words. They hadn't sped across the page. She had tried to read but couldn't. And she had expected Ron to notice. She didn't know how badly she could keep hurting him, and have him stay. It was irrational, it was cruel, but surely the fact he stayed with her and was patient and kind meant that he loved her? And that made it necessary for her to be detached. She couldn't risk losing anyone again. Especially Ron.

Especially Ron.

A tear managed to escape from her ever-glistening, darkened eyes. She wanted to let go and be happy again. But it was too dangerous.

"I love you too, Ron," She whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

Ron tossed under his covers. He had been with Hermione. He had _been_ with Hermione. He had _been with_ Hermione. However he said the words to himself they never sounded right. He should be thrilled right now. He loved Hermione more than anything. More than Quidditch and more than (he stuggled to admit) Hogwarts feasts. And yet, here he was, just an hour after being with Hermione and he felt like Fred had died all over again. He didn't know what to do. Usually when girls acted mad it never seemed so life-threateningly real, and it was something he could joke about with Harry. Certainly with Lavender, he had even consulted Hermione about the best way to break it off with her. But now Hermione had shagged him in front of the fireplace and gone back to her books, and Harry had defeated Voldemort and run away and ignored his last two letters. Ron needed to talk to Harry. Maybe he could help him figure out how to deal with Hermione. Ron realised that it was about two in the morning, and Harry should definitely be home, even if he was asleep. "Right, I'll Floo him." He decided quickly and jumped out of bed, careful not to wake his fellow Gryffindor's and raced down the stairs from the boys dormitories.

The glow from the fire, crackling away gave the common room an eerie glow, and Ron suddenly realised that there was a figure draped over the lounge in front of the fire. Ron felt a pain in his chest. He knew it was her. Her head rested on her arm, and she had ink all up her palm and forearm, where she had been scribbling furiously for hours. Her legs were curled up beside her, her lap covered in books and papers, and her other hand still clutched her quill. Ron sat down in the armchair to watch her sleep, all thought of Flooing Harry forgotten. As he watched her peaceful face, he couldn't believe she was real. He would take whatever she could give him and lap it up eagerly. This beautiful creature, who didn't know how special she was. She didn't understand that to Ron, she was everything. She may have lost her family. But he wanted desperately for her to be part of his.

Ron noticed that Hermione's hand that was near her face was curled around a pot of ink, with its lid removed. He hastened to try to pry it from her fingers without spilling it, or waking her. He managed the task, but then her fingers grasped his instead of the ink pot, and it tumbled out of his grasp, forgotten, to the floor. Ron could feel the ink staining the knees of his pyjamas, but he was glued to the spot. He didn't want Hermione to wake up and find him staring at her, but he absolutely could not move. Hermione murmured something and began to rearrange her limbs, and Ron managed to extricate his fingers from her grasp, trying not to remember the last time Hermione had held his hand like that, falling asleep together at Grimmauld place. Hermione mumbled again, and Ron knew she would wake up and head up to bed soon. He had to talk to Harry.

He got up from the floor, one knee of his maroon pyjama pants now stained black, and took a couple of hesitant steps towards the fireplace. Hermione was giving little breathy moans every couple of seconds, and mumbling incoherently. Ron grabbed a handful of the green Floo powder and threw it into the fire. He stepped in, and just as he was about to call out "Grimmauld Place, London" he heard "Oh Ron!" clearly but softly behind him. He spun around, thinking he had been caught, but Hermione was still asleep, totally unaware that she had been dreaming of him. "Ah, but she _was_ dreaming of me", Rom thought, smiling, and he whispered "Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London" and watched Hermione spin out of sight.

***

Harry was snoring slightly when an almighty commotion in his front hall, alerted him to the presence of a visitor. Harry searched quickly for his glasses and wand on his bedside table, then made his way carefully down the stairs to the front hall, where he raised his wand cautiously until he recognised the red-haired young man, covered in soot, hopping around clutching one foot and swearing as his best friend.

"RON!" Harry yelled, running down the remainder of the stairs and pulling Ron into a hug, then punching him in the arm, "Mate, you nearly scared me half to death! What are you doing sneaking in here in the middle of the night! You should be at school shouldn't you?"

Harry watched as Ron continued to rub his toe, as he looked around in awe at the front hall. Where the walls had once been dark and sinister, they were now a pleasant shade of yellow. "You decorated?" He looked suspiciously at Harry, then glared at a cabinet that had certainly not been in the house the last time Ron had. Harry laughed, and ushered Ron into the kitchen. "Actually your sister did. She insisted that if I was going to live here it had to actually be habitable. And she was right, I reckon. Couple of quick charms and the place looks almost decent," Harry sighed and pointed at a row of elf heads displayed on the wall, "For the most part anyway." Ron shook his head as he looked at the elf heads, when with a loud "CRACK" he was suddenly presented with the real thing.

"Master Harry should let Kreacher know when we is expecting company, Sir!" bowed Kreacher and hurried off, no doubt to fetch enough food to feed a small elephant. Ron and Harry wandered into the dining room, and Harry merely looked at Ron expectantly. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but before he could, Kreacher was at his side, "Would the Sirs be wanting tea?" Kreacher asked as he loaded the table with all sorts of food. Harry raised an eyebrow at Ron, who had taken a piece of caramel tea-cake and who hastily replied "Oh no, this is great! Cheers, Kreacher!"

Kreacher disapparrated again, leaving Ron and Harry with the mountain of food. Kreacher, obviously confused by the hour of the visit, had not know what meal he was required to provide, and so, had brought a little of everything. There was some leftover cut lamb and boiled potatoes, some bread, cereal, marmalade, tea-cakes and even a tub of Fortesque's ice-cream.

Ron tucked in, almost forgetting the reason for the visit, and it was not until several minutes later as Harry, watching him amusedly, yawned very pointedly, that he remembered why he had come.

"It's Hermione" he said.

Harry's face fell. He felt so guilty about Hermione's parents. Almost more than he did about losing Fred, or Lupin and Tonks in the war. They had known the risks, and come into the battle, whereas Hermione had sacrificed her parents for his sake, and now she had nothing. And it was his fault. He had been selfish enough to allow her to do it, and at the time, it had even seemed like a good idea. But now Hermione wasn't right. She wasn't coping at all. Even Molly had managed to pull herself together and carry on. Harry went to the Burrow for dinner on Fridays and was amazed at how collected she seemed. She was obviously devastated. But she had managed to control her grief and move on. Maybe Hermione should take lessons.

"She still not coping then?" Harry muttered, playing with his cereal.

Ron squirmed a little. He knew how guilty Harry felt about Hermione's parents, but he had brought it up now, and he needed to get his opinion.

"Well," Ron began, "That and the fact she just shagged me in front of the common room fireplace then told me she needed to study like nothing ever happened, yeah" he finished conversationally.

Harry spat his pumpkin juice everywhere, and coughed madly, "What?!"

Ron grinned and nodded. He felt a little cheerier about the whole event now he could discuss it. He just wished he had been able to discuss it with Hermione.

Harry turned red. This was NOT a conversation he had ever expected to be having, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to hear all the gory details. "What happened, mate?!"

Ron had a mouthful of food, but still managed to begin the story, "So I that nexth to her in the cobbon roob, and she didn't eben dow I was there."Ron swallowed. "Then she dropped her quill and I picked it up, and we bumped heads, and she was so worried, then she just started pummelling me when she realised I was alright. Then I just sort of kissed her, and then she was taking off her blouse and my..."

Harry interrupted quickly, "Okay! So you..." he gulped, "You shagged... Then what happened?"

"I dunno," Ron mumbled embarrassedly, "We just kind of lay there for a bit, and then I told her I loved her, and then she jumped up and started feeding me all this bullshit about needing to study, and I just kind of sat there for a while and watched her some more and then I went to bed, but then when I couldn't sleep I came downstairs and she was asleep on the lounge and just when I was leaving she said my name." Ron finished, sighing exhaustedly and reaching for the tub of ice-cream, "So what do you reckon, mate?" he asked Harry, "What do I _do_?"

Harry merely looked at Ron. It was a very rare thing to have this kind of discussion with Ron. And now here he was in the middle of the night, begging for advice. Harry had no experience in this area. Less than Ron after tonight, but he didn't really think that telling Ron that he _hadn't_ shagged Ginny yet was exactly the right way to cheer him up at this precise moment.

"So, you told Hermione you loved her?" Harry questioned, confused. This seemed to be a perfectly accepted thing to do, after shagging, or even anytime, with a girl. Girls generally liked that, didn't they? Harry was as confused as Ron, who seemed to have lost any cheerfulness he had arrived with, and now sat in Harry's dining room, clutching the tub of ice-cream, and staring morosely at the table.

Ron nodded and spooned another mouthful. Harry had listened well, and that had been good, but Ron should have realised that he needed to talk to someone who could actually give an opinion. Harry understood girls about as well as Ron did, and it was only the fact he was with Ginny, which meant that he had any kind of successful relationship. But Ron knew most of that would be under Ginny's instruction on how to behave. Ron needed that too. But where would he find someone who could instruct him like that?

After a bit more discussion, and the yawning getting more and more intermittent, Ron left, waving to Harry, and thanking him for putting up with him. "I was in a bit of a state. You've been great, Harry. See you at Christmas, then!"

Ron arrived back at the common room, and noticed the lounge lay empty and abandoned with Hermione's scattered papers everywhere. He sadly made his way up to bed, thankful that it was Saturday today and he could sleep in.

***

On was rudely awaked by his covers flying off his bed, and a lot of very bright light shining through his window. "Ronald Weasley, you get up this instant!" shrieked a voice, and Ron groaned sleepily. "Mum?" he mumbled, "What's going on?"

"I am not your mother Ron, but I am your sister, and I can write to Mum if that's what it takes to get you UP!" and with that, Ginny had him out of bed and dangling by his ankles above the mattress. Ron yelled, angrily, "Damn Harry to all hell for teaching you that spell!" Ginny hissed at him, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Funny you should mention Harry," Ginny said slowly, milking her words, and she pulled something out of her pocket, "Why, I've just had a letter from him, asking me to keep an eye out for Ron and Hermione 'after what happened last night'!" Ginny shrieked. "What happened, Weasley! What did you do to her?!"

Ron scowled. "Of course it's MY fault, whatever happened, happened?!" his head was starting to throb, whether from rage, or dangling upside down, Ron wasn't sure, "Ginny, let me down will you? The counter curse is Libera.."

But Ron's words were drowned out by more shrieking. "Tell me what you did Ron! Why would Harry write me this on the same day I can't find Hermione anywhere?"

Ron's stomach lurched, "Hermione is missing?" he breathed.

"Yes, Hermione is missing, so once again, Ron, WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Ron gulped.

Ginny glared.

"Just let me down first, Gin, ok? I'll tell you, and I promise you can hex me after we find Hermione, I dunno, I probably deserve it."

Ginny looked wary, but relented, and sent Ron crashing cack to his mattress, where his head spun dizzily. He sat up and Ginny was standing over him, wand held menacingly. "What. Happened. Ron?"

Ron decided to get it all over with quickly.

"Well...we kind-of-shagged and I told-her-I-loved-her and she went-back-to-studying and ignored me like nothing-ever-happened,"He let out.

Ginny looked shell-shocked, "You- You and Hermione- You SHAGGED HER?! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!" Ginny looked panicked. Ron started to panic too. "It just kind of HAPPENED, Gin, I didn't PLAN on it! Why? Whats so wrong about it?"

"Whats wrong, is that Hermione isn't dealing with anything right now, and you know how she likes to plan every little detail. You can't take a girl who needs stability and spontaneously shag her, Ron! It doesn't work like that! I'm checking all the bathrooms," Ginny finished and raced out of the room calling over her shoulder, "YOU CHECK THE LIBRARY!"

"WHAT DO I SAY TO HER IF I FIND HER?!" Ron bellowed down the stairs, needing advice more than ever.

Ginny turned around on the stairs and shrugged at him, "Just don't screw it up, Ron."


	3. Chapter 3

Ron hurried back to his trunk and grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt to change into, barely even paying attention to what he was doing. He should have made Hermione talk to him last night when it had happened. This wasn't how he had expected his first time to be, and he had always imagined that a first time with Hermione would be amazing and so special. But now everyone was acting like it was a colossal mistake and he was getting angry.

He finished getting dressed and began sprinting to the library. He pushed past a gaggle of second years, chattering away about something, and skidded to a halt at the check-out desk, where Madam Pince looked at him sternly.

"Hermione," he gasped, "Have you seen her?"

Madam Pince merely shifted a pile of books that Ron had leant on to catch his breath and sniffed as she left. He was left to search for her himself.

He travelled up one aisle and down the next, swearing mutinous threats against Madam Pince under his breath the whole time. She wasn't anywhere.

Hermione wasn't in the library.

This was a shock in itself, but now Ron really feared that he had ruined everything.

He wandered outside the castle, searching fruitlessly with his eyes. All the people outside were enjoying the sunshine, mucking about. A lone, bushy haired Hermione with the grass strewn with books should stand out like a sore thumb.

But nothing.

Until Ron spotted a familiar silhouette towards the foot of the castle, near the Astronomy Tower. There she was, he head on her knees next to the memorial plaque that had been placed there at the start of the year. It remembered everyone who had been lost in the battle at Hogwarts, and Ron knew that Hermione sometimes came here, as she had no graves to visit for her parents.

He wondered whether he should disturb her, but the anger at the unfairness of the whole situation was raging inside him. And with that, she strode over to Hermione and plonked himself down beside her. She sniffed, but didn't look up, and he wondered if she was even going to acknowledge that he was there.

"Are you ok?" he whispered softly, moving her hair back over her ears so she couldn't feign deafness.

Hermione looked up. She had been crying, and as much as it was a completely muddled knee-jerk reaction to be having, Ron was happy. He was glad she was showing some actual emotion. It had been lacking since that day in the hotel in Sydney.

"I'm fine," Hermione said, and made to get up, but Ron grabbed her by the arm too quickly and pulled her down.

"You're not fine, Hermione." He stated matter-of-factly. "You're anything BUT fine, in fact, and it has gone on too long, and after what happened last night, we need to talk."

Hermione was terrified to look at him. She knew she had finally done it. She had finally pushed him away. As much as she hadn't so much as spoken to him in weeks, his presence had been so comforting. And yet so dangerous, she reminded herself. Ron could never be allowed in. Loving people just meant it hurt more when they left, or she misplaced them. Because that was what she had done. Other people spoke of 'losing' someone during the war. But it was not their fault. None of them could claim that they had ACTUALLY lost someone, or two someone's, due to their own foolish stupidity. She was dangerous. Stupid enough to believe her cleverness could extend to spells she had never performed. Clever enough to realise her own fault in their deaths.

"I have nothing to say, Ron. Let me up," she said coldly, turning her face away so her tears would not betray her.

"Well I have plenty to say, so shut up and listen!" Ron said, still holding her firmly.

She looked at him, shocked. He had been walking on eggshells with her for months, and now, when he was about to tell her he'd had enough, he was going to yell at her too?

"I will NOT shut up and..." Hermione found a hand over her mouth and her anger grew, and the tears turned to that of fury.

Ron smiled at her. He SMILED at her!! He had the gall to sit there cocky as anything, grinning at her? Hermione tried to kick him, and he managed to spin his shins out of the way.

"So there you are!" he said happily, "I thought for sure I was dreaming last night, but you ARE still here."

Hermione was puzzled, this didn't sound like the speech she was expecting. And when had Ron gotten so confident? He sounded like... like SHE used to. And Hermione was jealous. She knew she had to pay her penance. She had lost her parents, so she needed to pay the price, but it seemed Ron was a temptation she would have to try her hardest to resist. Her one moment of wantonness last night, when she had forgotten that she wasn't allowed to enjoy herself anymore had led to her and Ron entwined on the.... Anyway, it wouldn't be happening again.

"Hermione I need you back." Ron said, looking at her so intensely, she felt sure her eyes were glued to his. "I know that losing your parents was a horrible thing, but they wouldn't want you to keep on like this. They would want you to be happy, and go on remembering them happily. I've been there remember? Do you think Fred would have wanted us all to become hermits and never have any fun? Losing them..."

"YOU DONT UNDERSTAND!" Hermione shrieked at him, breaking free from the hand he had over her mouth. "I didn't just have my parents DIE, I was the one who LOST them! I cast spells I'd never performed before, and I thought I was smart and they ended up dead! Because of me! So I don't deserve any different Ron Weasley! It doesn't matter how much I want to move on, I'm not allowed to. This is my punishment. I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea about last night, Ron," Hermione was sobbing now, and Ron was merely looking at her, "I won't happen again, I... I... I ass-ass-assure y-y-you!"

"Like hell it won't!" Ron said gruffly and this time, he made the decision. He had a conscious thought of pulling Hermione towards him, and felt the satisfaction of his thought process when her lips melted against his own. Hermione seemed almost Petrified for a second, before her lips here kissing him back, hungrily and her tongue was searching for his. Ron groaned loudly, "God, I've missed this," he mumbled against her mouth as he moved her so she was perched on his lap.

Suddenly, his lips were alone, and Hermione was pulling away from him again.

"Hermione!" he called after her as she ran off, "Hermione Granger, stop lying to yourself!"

She spun around angrily. "Weasley, how am I lying to myself? I don't want you to kiss me anymore! That's not a lie!"

Ron crossed the three strides between them and pulled her towards him in a bone-crushing, kiss. She fought back and slapped him, but he didn't let her go. It was against her free will. She couldn't control her body against him now. As if last night had triggered some light within Ron and she was a moth being dragged towards him. She kissed him back, though still struggling to get free, and Ron's hands held her close. She tried to push him away some more.

She would try three more times, then she would let him have her and let the chips fall where they will, she thought. One, she tried to break away by turning her head and pushing his arm. Two, she tried ducking out of his grip, but he never let their mouths part for a second. Thr.... suddenly he had taken advantage of her current position to push her up against the wall of the castle and imprison her there. She could feel... _him _between her thighs, and she was becoming aware there must be other people that could see them. Startlingly, she suddenly heard a voice shrieking next to them, and Ron wasn't there anymore. Dazed she shook her head, and saw Ginny, dangling Ron upside down with her wand, screaming bloody murder at him.

"Gah!" Ron yelled, "Damn you Ginny! I'm going to hex Harry into oblivion for teaching you that! Let me down!"

Ginny began to twirl her wand and Ron began to revolve in the air. "What. Do. You. Think. You're. Doing?" She growled at him.

Hermione looked at Ron, getting redder and redder in the face, and struggling to try to snatch at Ginny from the air.

And she giggled.

Then she laughed.

Ginny and Ron turned in amazement to her. No one had heard Hermione laugh in months. Ron beamed at her. He loved that sound. He had made her laugh. Even if it was against his will, he thought grumpily.

Hermione covered her mouth in shock. She shouldn't be laughing! How could she be enjoying herself, when she was responsible for losing her parents? Her laugh turned into a sob, and she sank to her knees.

"Let me down," she heard Ron tell Ginny, and as she looked up, Ron crashed into a heap on the ground, half in a convenient puddle. Ginny looked so satisfied and Ron so indignant, and suddenly she was laughing all over again. She couldn't stop it, she felt a little mad with the giddiness of it all. She started to calm down and Ron came, smiling over to her and sat down. She took one look at his mud and leaf-littered hair and roared with laughter again. He wiped his hand through her hair and found a handful of mud, and wiped it on Hermione's cheek.

Then the three of them had a mud fight, flinging mud this way and that, before they all fell in the puddle and were soaked through. They lay there, giggling and exhausted happily watching the sky, and Ron's hand was in Hermione's, and the world seemed brighter somehow.

Then Hermione saw a bright light reflecting into her sight.

The memorial plaque shone brightly at her.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry looked out the window near his desk. The weather was enchanted to be raining today, and it looked as miserable as Harry felt. He drummed his fingers on the table and started scribbling on a scrap of parchment on his desk. He scrawled a broomstick and a little figure with a hand outstretched for the Snitch. He gave her red hair and a cheeky smile. Then he tapped the parchment with his wand, and his caricatured Ginny flew around on her broom, waving at him and blowing him kisses. He had never felt so lonely in his whole life.

He scrawled another little figure on a broomstick, giving this one untidy black hair and a pair of glasses and tapped the parchment again and watched as the two flew around the parchment, chasing each other, the snitch forgotten.

Harry couldn't believe how ingrained Ginny had become to him in the few months between Voldemort's death and her return to school. He had come to rely on her so much, to tell him when he was being a prat, and to make him laugh when he desperately needed to. Like now, Harry thought to himself, turning to stare morosely at the magical downpour once more.

He was broken from his stupor by the sound of someone clearing their throat quite loudly behind him. Harry spun quickly and saw Kingsley Shacklebolt with his arms folded in front of his chest, perusing Harry quite sharply with one eyebrow raised.

"Harry, what are you doing?" he asked in his slow voice, still watching Harry closely.

"Erm... well," Harry began, reminded forcibly of being at school and having not done his homework.

"I want you to follow something up for me." Kingsley stated formally, ignoring Harry's stammered attempts to answer.

Harry nodded, eager for anything to take his mind off Ginny; where she was, what she was doing at that very moment. He shook his head to clear his muddled brain and plastered a serious interested look on his face.

"There's been some rumours of Voldemort supporters getting some publicity from Australia and New Zealand. Apparently the ones we couldn't catch could be with them and ring leading; Macnair, Yaxley, and a few of the others who managed to escape. Now I know Hermione lost her parents in Australia, and I want you to make sure you don't even hint any of this to her, but I need to know how much she had told her parents about you, and about our world. Hermione, being a muggle-born probably felt safe sharing secrets with her parents, and if there's even the slightest chance that their disappearances were the work of Death Eaters... well we need to know what information they were privy to about you."

Harry felt his insides clench. He strongly suspected that Hermione's parents had run afoul of the Death Eaters, and he had put a great deal of effort into trying not to think about that. And now Kingsley was going to assign him to this. He knew it mustn't be considered dangerous, whatever he was planning on asking Harry to do. Kingsley had been especially strict with Harry's safety ever since he had joined the program, understanding that Voldemort's supporters would dearly love to avenge their leader.

But how could Harry do this to Hermione? How could he dredge up these memories from her mind and expect her to cope anymore? She hadn't so much as smiled lately as far as Harry knew, and even if these memories didn't cause her to spiral into her depression further, how was he going to be able to prevent her from knowing what he was doing? He agreed with Kingsley, Hermione couldn't know about the suspected Death Eater threats on his life. None of them could. They had all done enough, lost enough, and none of them needed the added worry of Harry, on top of their NEWTS.

His heart jumped and squirmed simultaneously at the idea of returning to Hogwarts; even if it was not as a student. He loved the idea of seeing Ginny every day and maybe having a fly with Ron during lunchtimes. But he knew he would see the blackened marks on the walls that magic hadn't yet been found to remove. The scars on the once beloved castle would feel like scars on his conscience. Ron had told him, that the wall that had been blasted where Fred had died, had been rebuilt with magic, but that the outside wall was still a sickly burnt colour, tinged with green streaks.

The idea of seeing this wall terrified Harry.

"Well?" Kingsely asked, peering at Harry worriedly, and Harry realised he had been silent for several moments, while considering the option.

His eyes fell. He could not meet Kingsely's eyes when he turned down the assignment. But his gaze fell on the scribble of himself and Ginny flying around on brooms. His scribbled imitation caught Ginny and kissed her, little hearts fluttering around them on the page.

Harry gulped.

"Count me in."

Harry had sent Ginny an owl that evening, and he could almost hear her shrieks of joy in her response. It was a strange feeling to be so torn between utter fulfilment to be seeing her again, and utter terror to be returning to that place. He did not like the feeling. Fear was worse than anything he would experience there he was sure, but the fear of going back had him almost paralysed. It was like a pestilence of Dementors had suddenly descended on Harry and he was having trouble hanging onto his thought of Ginny to keep him grounded.

Harry woke up in a cold sweat that night, the first time in months that he had not slept through the night. What had he been thinking? He had let his desire to see Ginny override everything! Harry rolled over and closed his eyes again, trying to keep any vision of a destroyed Hogwarts from his mind. He could see every moment of that night. Every moment he had watched someone die.

It had been his fault. If he hadn't delayed going to Voldemort, they would all still be alive. George wouldn't be struggling to run a shop by himself. Teddy would be calling Remus Daddy, instead of Harry as he had last week. Harry remembered horribly, Andromeda's face as the toddler had gurgled the word as Harry had fed him his lunch. Harry hadn't known what to do. Should he correct Teddy? He wouldn't understand anyhow, he was barely one. Instead he had hurriedly made an excuse about getting back to work and almost run for the door.

He loved Teddy, but he definitely wasn't ready to be the little boy's father. Maybe distancing himself for a while would be best. That would be less confusing for the poor kid. Harry grimaced in the dark.

He would do what Kingsley asked. It would be better for Teddy if he wasn't a confusing influence. He could see Ginny, and Ron and Hermione. And he could deal with his fears and return to Hogwarts. Harry hated this fear that had overtaken the love he had once felt for his home. The fear of the memories that would resurface was stifling him. The only time he could remember feeling this scared was... Harry suddenly had a thought.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He called out, and opened his eyes to watch his stag gallop out the end of his wand. Harry watched as the stag galloped around his bedroom and then paused. He sighed.

He felt no different. It wasn't helping. Of course it wasn't helping, he told himself angrily. This wasn't a dementor in his house, this was his fear actually being realised. He looked at the patronus stag and closed his eyes.

"Stay," he whispered.

He could see the bright light of the stag through his eyelids, and it erased the vision of that wall. Harry focused on the light, and managed to get back to sleep. His dreams involved a red-headed hand-drawn figure, who blew him a kiss then disappeared in a flash of green light.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry breathed in deeply. The familiar woody scent was in the air, and was both comforting and terrifying. He closed his eyes, and took his first step forward. It had been very late by the time he had gathered the courage to apparate to Hogsmede. And now he couldn't even open his eyes. He only knew he had apparated correctly from the smell in the air. He merely stood there breathing in the air.

"Rightio." He muttered, opening his eyes and taking in the Hogsmede station. He forced himself to look beyond the station to the village, then upwards to take in the impressive visage that had been his first home. Hogwarts looked so beautiful back-dropped against the stars.

He wasn't going to be staying there tonight, and if Harry was perfectly honest with himself, he was going to try as hard as he could to arrange it that he never stayed at the school. Still a little queasy from his apparition, he stumbled a little, pulling his trunk in the direction of The Three Broomsticks.

Hogsmede hadn't changed much; the only addition was a large statue in the middle of the road. Harry thought at first that it was the Fountain of Magical Brethren from the Ministry of Magic, but as he got closer he saw that, instead of showing the magical creatures worshipping the wizards, this statue was commemorating those who had died in the battle.

There were children and adults, and centaurs and house-elves. Harry looked at their brave, frozen expressions and sank down onto his trunk. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, rubbing it furiously as if he could bring them back. He peeked back at the statue and noticed an inscription at its base.

"_This statue is dedicated to those who gave their lives for all magic-kind at The Battle of Hogwarts._

_2__nd__ May 1998._

_We remember their sacrifice and bravery in the face of evil daily."_

Harry stared at the words. Magic-kind. Not Wizard-kind. Harry was filled with pride at this and looked at the statue anew. The faces were all equal in their bravery and Harry wondered whether Hermione had had any part in the wording and design of this monument.

Hermione.

Harry was guilt-ridden just at the thought of what he had come here to do to his best friend. But it needed to be done. And reason allowed him the opinion that telling her why he needed the information would hurt her worse. So Harry couldn't tell them. Not any of them. No-one could know that Harry's life was in danger. They had all risked their lives for his too many times, and lost so much. No-one would be allowed to die for him ever again.

Ginny peered impatiently at the clock. Harry was due to arrive this evening and she had fancied that he would come straight to her. Perhaps he had been held up, she reasoned. But Ginny didn't want to lie to herself. She knew Harry wouldn't come tonight.

She didn't know how to keep reassuring Harry. He was so irrationally scared of Hogwarts that he was letting it keep him from his best friends. Ron had told Ginny that he hadn't even heard from Harry in several weeks, and Hermione even longer. Ginny didn't know what was in those letters, but if they were anything like the ones he sent to her, she knew they barely knew him now. His letters were always vague and almost forcedly upbeat. He told generic anecdotes and focussed on asking questions. Harry must be lonely, Ginny knew, but he needed to regain his friendships if he was ever going to get better.

Ginny got up from the armchair near the fireplace in the common room. She headed for the portrait hole determined to find a way to see Harry.


End file.
